My lungs feel heavy, weighed down by the bitter scent of almonds and I swear, I swear, I can feel them start to stain - just like the walls, colour starts to creep along my innards in shades of blue. It burns, it fu.cking burns so bad but there's nothing to do but wait. I do so for what feels like hours, my lungs melting like a hot knife into butter, but nothing. Nothing at all. My arms ache and blister but still I'm gasping shallowly, like a baby taking its first breath. This is my first breath, after spending so long suffocating, after so long struggling and pining and feeling jealous over anyone who had the privilege to breathe. It hurts, it hurts a lot, and I don't understand how everyone else around me can breathe so easily, like it's second-nature, while I struggle with something meant to be so basic. For so many years I've wanted to breathe like that, like everyone else. And here I am - gasping, phlegm in my mouth - wishing I was doing anything but.